Restorin’ My Heart
by here4thereylo
Summary: REYLOGAN AKA Rey and Clyde Logan from Logan Lucky. (Logan lucky not a movie choice in the crossover options). Clyde lives his life post Hillbilly Heist, working at the Duck Tape and never missing an episode of his favorite show, Restaurant Takeover, hosted by his celebrity crush Rey Johnson.
1. Chapter1

The Logan Family Curse was officially a thing of the past. Two years after the Hillbilly Heist, Clyde had resumed his simple life, though perhaps with a bit of extra money in his piggy bank.

His life remained unchanged; he still owned the Duck Tape, and took care of it day in and day out. He was there more often than he was home, to be honest. He kept to himself mostly, his routine predictable and unsurprising. Wake up, watch tv. Head to the Duck Tape, help with deliveries or opening duties. Man the bar. Close up. Go home. Go to sleep. Repeat. Mellie always told him he needed to shake things up. But he was comfortable; complacent.

The one night he left the Duck Tape early, like clockwork, was Wednesday nights. He was out of the bar by seven o'clock sharp so that he could be home, complete with dinner and a beer by eight p.m. to watch his favorite show.

He had stumbled upon Restaurant Invasion one day a few months ago. He had taken a rare day off, choosing to sit at home and catch up on some reading. He had turned the television on for some background noise, not feeling comfortable with a completely silent house, when The Food Network had started playing in the background. It made for good background noise, until he heard the lilting accent of a British woman flow through the speakers.

"Cheers, everyone, and welcome to Restaurant Invasion! I'm Rey Johnson, and today you will follow me to the sleepy town of Beaufort, South Carolina where we have been asked to come in to Crackin' Crabs, a local seafood joint…"

Clyde had put his book down and watched the entire episode. And the next. And suddenly, five hours had passed and he finally felt pangs of hunger rumble through his stomach. He was enraptured by this Rey Johnson. She barged into these people's establishments, their livelihoods, and turned them around. She took no shit - but was compassionate. One of the commercials during his tv marathon showed that the show aired new episodes every Wednesday at eight 8 p.m.

And he hadn't missed an episode since.

~~~

Mellie was lounging at the bar several weeks later, spending some quality time with her brother. She came in to see him from time to time, to check in on him. Clyde had suspicions that Mellie was worried about him, and his antisocial tendencies, as she called it. But he indulged her, spending the evening with her while she tried to scope out all the eligible women to set him up with. He always groaned at her when she did this; it didn't matter how many times he told her he was just fine, he had Mellie, Jimmy and Sadie, he didn't need anyone else. And every time she rolled her eyes.

"Clyde, one of these days some gal is gonna come in here and knock ya on yer ass. I'm just tryin' to make that happen before we're all a hundred years old."

"Mellie, I told ya, I'm fine. I got everythin' I need. I got the bar. The curse is broken. We found Pawpaw's diamond. I ain't doin' nothin' to upset the balance."

Mellie huffed and rolled her eyes at her brother.

"Don't ya know that's a whole—"

"Don't ya dare give it a mouth, Mellie." Clyde pointed at her for extra emphasis as he interrupted her. His eyes flicked up to the clock on the far side of the bar, noting it was 6:58 p.m.

"Oh, shoot, I wasn't payin' attention. Sorry Mel, I gotta scoot." He nodded towards the other bartender, tapped a few numbers into the computer terminal to clock out, and maneuvered his way out from behind the bar.

"Hot date with yer television again, Clyde?" Mellie asked, unable to hide her smirk.

"Don't even, Mel. I don't say nothin' about ya and Joe Bang. Let me have my tv show." She raised her hands in mock surrender, face still full of mirth as he made to move past her. He still paused to clasp his good hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze and a smile. "Thanks for droppin' by, Mel."

Mellie waited until Clyde was out of the bar, and then a couple minutes for extra security. She waved over the other bartender, and had them put on Food Network. Mellie knew Clyde was addicted to some foodie show, he talked about how it gave him ideas to fix up the Duck Tape, but she had never seen it. Luckily, a rerun was on when the TV flickered on to the right channel, and Mellie caught sight of the host.

"Alright Clyde, I see why ya never missed an episode…" she trailed off, muttering to herself. Then she got a brilliant idea. She whipped out her phone, pulling up the Restaurant Invasion website. "I think this calls for a touch of Mellie magic."

~~~

Rey Johnson finally had some good fortune in her life. She still wasn't quite sure how she landed a show on Food Network, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had busted her ass through culinary school, working in increasingly prestigious restaurants in London and honing her craft. Life in restaurant kitchens and the foster system had given her a tough skin and a tougher attitude.

She had been a sous-chef at Club Gascon, a two Michelin Star restaurant, just a hop skip and a jump away from the London Bridge. It had been a high stress night, like most nights in any kitchen, when the front of house manager came back into the kitchen, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Who prepared the Mouclade for table forty-five?" He barked out. Rey stepped out from behind the cooktop she was at, smoothing some flyaway hairs and raising her hand.

"Follow me." He turned and walked towards the exit of the kitchen without another look. Rey had no choice but to follow.

They navigated through the dining room to a secluded corner booth where an old man, and a younger man and woman were seated. Rey approached the table, nervous she was about to get reamed out, with the Manager hovering right behind her.

The old man at the table looked up from his conversation, penetrating eyes landing on Rey. She couldn't prevent the involuntary shudder that passed through her body; something about his crystal blue eyes, bald head and blemished face unsettled her. She waited for him to speak, not wanting to jump to conclusions as to her presence in front of them.

"Well well well, this is who prepared my meal this evening?" The old man asked, his eyes roving over Rey's body from head to toe. She resisted another shudder, nodding her head in affirmation. "Pardon my brashness, but I would not have expected this to come from someone that looks like you, my dear. This is absolutely delightful."

She was surprised, to say the least. She wasn't sure if she should be flattered or insulted by his phrasing. What was she supposed to look like, after all? Some mid-fifties man with a mohawk and sleeve tattoos?

"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed your meal, sir." She responded, ever the professional.

"Oh, dear, call me Snoke. You have a talent, my dear, and the right look. I have a proposition for you…" He waved off the front of house manager, who took his leave with a small bow. "You see, my colleagues and I are executive producers for the Food Network, and I think you would be perfect for a new show I have in mind."

Rey couldn't believe her luck. This was her chance, her big break.

She shook hands with Snoke and never went back.

~~~

Rey absolutely loved her new job. Her favorite part was getting to meet all different people from all walks of life, helping them turn around their restaurants and put new life into their establishments. Everyone she helped had a story; something they were struggling with, or family issues, and she felt like she was really helping people.

She was back in New York City, having relocated after filming began on her new show Restaurant Invasion,after several weeks on the road filming back to back episodes. This was the usual filming pattern; around a month on the road, as they were in each town for one week, and then back for two weeks for editing and coordinating the next filming stops. Most places were a surprise, the owner of the place never being privy to the fact that their restaurant was about to get taken over by a small crew and completely revamped.

She waltzed into the control room, a coffee in her hand, saying hello to everyone and heading over to Finn's desk. They had become fast friends once she'd joined the Food Network team, and he was one of the producers on her show and was in charge of selecting each new target for the show. He had manila folders littered all over his small desk, paper applications and CDs everywhere.

"What's on the docket today?" She asked, sitting on the corner of his desk and taking a sip of her cappuccino. She lifted up the folder on top of the pile, attempting to open the folder with one hand while holding her coffee in the other.

"I haven't actually started looking through the applications today...yesterday they were all duds - so I'm not really looking forward to it." Finn admitted. He watched Rey struggle for a few seconds, laughing at her sticking her tongue out in concentration as she tried to balance the folder on top of her coffee before Finn finally relented, grabbing the file from her and removing the application from the folder, handing the pages back to her.

They sat in silence for a minute, Rey combing through the application, chewing on the inside of her lip as she read.

"West Virginia, huh? We haven't been out there in awhile…" Rey mused. Finn shook his head.

"There's a reason we don't go out there. Anywhere outside of Charleston is not worth going to, in my opinion. Where is that place?"

"Uhh…" Rey's eyes flitted back up to the top of the application. "Boone County?"

"Yeah, that's probably an automatic no then. I've never even heard of Boone Country."

"Not so fast, Finn. This place seems promising! Former military, amputee, family establishment. It's all the things we normally go for." She flipped the page, where the applicant had attached a couple of pictures. First was of the exterior of the building, The Duck Tape. She had to give it to them, it definitely was a clever name. Her eyes scanned down to the second picture, clearly a candid photo of what she assumed to be the proprietor. It was a profile view of a tall, built man with shaggy black hair reaching almost to his shoulders. She noticed his distinct nose and mouth, and even though the photo was not the best quality, she could make out a constellation of moles on his face.

She realized Finn had been talking to her for the last thirty seconds, and she had been totally zoned out and focused on this man's face.

"What?" She interrupted him, snapping her head up to meet his.

"I was just saying, I did a google search on Boone County, and there were a couple news articles from a couple years ago about a Hillbilly Heist. Apparently they returned all the money immediately. Who does that? This is why we never go to West Virginia."

Rey hopped off the desk, slapping the application back on Finn's desk.

"We're going. Let's make the arrangements and can you give this—" she consulted the application again, "Mellie person a call to give her a heads up? She'll need to be there when we surprise the owner."

Finn looked taken aback, but knew to trust Rey's gut.

"All right, boss lady. If you say so."


	2. Chapter2

"Who would have thought it would be so difficult to get to Boone County?" Rey asked, as her and Finn bobbed and weaved through the crowded terminal at Charlotte Douglas International airport. The rest of the crew had taken an earlier flight in order to prepare the equipment and have everything ready for filming once Rey arrived on site, but Rey and Finn were stuck with a three hour layover in Charlotte. They stumbled along a local burger joint in the terminal, and decided to sample the local cuisine while they waited. She was a chef, after all.

"Me, peanut. I tried to tell you. You literally cannot fly to Charleston, West Virginia direct. Heck, LaGuardia didn't even have any flights there, that's why we went to JFK this time," Finn said, noshing on his burger and tater tots, dipping them in the specialty sauce that accompanied his food. "Remind me to add this to our Charlotte restaurant list for next time we're in town." Rey nodded, chewing thoughtfully as she consumed her food.

"Three hours for the layover, plus the hour flight, and then another hour drive from the airport to the town, we might as well have just booked the trip to Charlotte and gotten a rental car," Finn continued, clearly disgruntled at their current travel situation.

"Maybe we can change our flight for the way back," Rey replied, trying to appease Finn and cheer him up a little bit. She knew it was probably just normal travel stress plus hunger, and that he would be feeling better after they finished eating.

Soon enough, it was time to pay, head to the gate and board their connecting flight, and Finn was in much better spirits. They had gone over the details a couple more times, having confirmed with a Mellie Logan that they would arrive at the Duck Tape at nine a.m. the next day, two hours before the owner Clyde was set to come into work so they could interview Mellie, take a tour of the restaurant, and get ready before the surprise introductions.

Rey and Finn arrived the next morning at nine a.m. sharp, where a pretty brunette was waiting for them outside the front door to the Duck Tape. The crew parked the car they all rode in together around the back side of the restaurant, out of sight of the front door, while Rey got out and made her way up to the stranger.

"You must be Mellie. I'm Rey, it's nice to meet you," she said as she approached, extending her hand out for a handshake. Mellie smiled, taking the proffered hand and shaking hands with Rey.

"Oh, I know who ya are," she drawled, her smile widening as they exchanged formalities. "Welcome to West Virginia. Now which way did ya come in from Charleston?" She turned from Rey, unlocking the front door and letting them inside.

They took the customary tour, inspecting the bar, walk-in, kitchen, and dining room, all while Mellie was telling them about the road construction on 64, how the owner, Clyde, came to buy the place a couple years ago, and several other topics. Rey engaged in the conversation, ears perking up at the mention of Clyde. That must have been his name, the man whose picture was included in the application file. She'd had attractive clients in the past, and never had any trouble keeping it professional. She hoped she would be able to do the same this time, but then again her heart doesn't normally do a little flutter at the mere mention of someone's name—especially someone she's never met.

Rey directed Finn to get the camera crew in place and filming B-roll footage while she kept talking with Mellie. She went over the normal itinerary of the week, the plans for the surprise welcome. She told Mellie the kitchen would need to be warned that several dishes were going to be ordered at once, and Finn started walking around handing out release waivers for employees to fill out so their faces and interviews could be shown on television.

The two women were buried deep in conversation about the restaurant, the family, when a door slam jerked them to face the source of the sound.

"What in the Sam Hill is goin' on here?" A voice roared from the entrance of the bar. Rey took in the man's appearance; tall, incredibly muscular, the buttons on his shirt screaming in protest against his chest. His hair fell in effortless waves down to his shoulders, his facial hair framing his plump red lips - which were currently turned downwards in a scowl, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in accompaniment.

Rey was breathless for a moment, then shook herself back into her professional demeanor. She quickly stood up from her spot next to Mellie at the bar, smoothed down an invisible wrinkle in her pencil skirt, and plastered a smile on her face. She glanced off to the side and nodded minutely at Finn, who grabbed one of the handheld cameras and started recording.

"You must be Clyde Logan! I'm Rey Johnson, and--"

"Yup, I know damn well who ya are. What are ya doing here? " Clyde wasn't sure what he was seeing was real. His celebrity crush, here in the flesh. He felt a lot of emotions simultaneously. Elation, at the chance to meet her. Confusion, at the thought of what she was doing in his bar. Then, ultimately, anger as he realized his sister was sitting there, and it had to have been Mellie up to her shenanigans again. He immediately looked past Rey and rounded on his sister.

"Mels, why did ya do this?" He brushed right past Rey, leaving her reeling in his wake. She looked to Finn, circling her finger and widening her eyes in a are you getting this motion as she turned to watch the siblings argue.

"Clyde, yer always talkin' about how ya wish ya had time ta spruce up the place! I just thought I'd give ya a little...push."

"Not like this, Mels! With the cameras, and the city folk…" he trailed off, gesturing to his mechanical arm, hoping Mellie would understand what he was implying. She nodded slowly, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Well Clyde, I think ya shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. They're here, ya get a week to do what ya been wantin' to do to the place, and--" she leaned in closer to Clyde and lowered her voice, "and I know ya been sweet on that chef lady for months, now ya got a chance ta talk to her," she said with a wink. Clyde gave her a look of consternation, not quite sure how she'd figured that one out, but nonetheless resigned to his fate. He turned back around to face Rey, who was quick to jump in.

"I'm so sorry we were here, Mr. Logan--"

"Mr. Logan was my father, ma'am. Call me Clyde." He inclined his head slightly in greeting, extending his hand. Rey flushed slightly at the polite rebuff, and took his hand for a firm handshake.

"Clyde, of course. As I was saying, we weren't expecting you here so early. Normally we surprise you once you're already here and settled in, but this is great! We'll go ahead and get the legal forms out of the way."

"Legal forms? Whaddya mean, legal forms?"

"Oh, just routine stuff, liability waiver, release waiver to be shown on television, contract, typical things." Rey gestured to the table and sat, Clyde reluctantly joining her. He was experiencing a lot of things really fast, and he was having trouble processing it all.

"They never show this part on the episodes," he muttered to himself as Rey brandished a stack of papers and a pen, all the signature points highlighted in yellow. Rey gave him a small smile, pushing the stack towards him.

"I assure you, it's all standard stuff. We don't show it because it's not the reason why we're here, not what the viewers are tuning in for. Yep, here too," she flipped the page around for a hidden spot to initial on the back page.

Clyde finished up signing the papers, still in a daze over what was happening. He had seen countless episodes of this show, but he never anticipated he would be the object of her scrutiny. He loved almost everything about her from the countless hours he watched her swoop in and turn people's lives upside down, but he wasn't sure he was ready. And he sure as hell didn't think his food was bad.

They finished up signing the stack of forms, and Rey rose from the table. She gave Clyde a warm smile, and then turned to Mellie. In that instant, she became all business.

"Okay Mellie, I want you to follow Finn outside—" she gestured towards Finn, who waved, "and he will start recording your interviews. Clyde, we've already kind of filmed your entrance, however unorthodox it was, so I don't think it's necessary to redo it. Let's just talk while you show me around. Mellie showed me the place, but I'd like to see if from your perspective."

It took a surprising amount of time just to film the introduction interviews. Rey kept repositioning them, the camera crew forcing them to film multiple takes. They'd had the same conversation about twelve times, a slightly different variation each time because the crew didn't believe in "rehearsing," since it was reality television. Clyde felt like a show dog, being paraded around and forced to stand at certain angles so the camera could get his "good side," whatever that was. The prep cooks had come in and skirted by them to the kitchen, avoiding the commotion, and Clyde had never felt so frustrated. He usually opened up the bar, checked in on the prep cooks, inspected the tables in the dining room, and then sat down to enjoy a book before customers started trickling in.

Instead, it had been two hours, people would walk in the door at any minute, and he'd only just finally taken Rey back to the kitchen. She took no time at all dismantling several appliances, examining for mold, bugs, and dirty food waste hidden in cracks and crevices. Luckily, Clyde was pretty anal about cleanliness in the kitchen, and she didn't find much.

Until she looked up in the vent hood and saw something that wasn't to her liking. She waved one of the camera guys over, and started narrating what she found to the camera, completely ignoring Clyde altogether. He could just make out her saying words like "safety hazard" and "unacceptable," when he stomped over and interrupted her monologue.

"Ma'am, I don't mean no disrespect, but we clean every piece of equipment in this here kitchen day in an' day out. I dunno what ya see, but it ain't no safety hazard." Rey rebutted by trailing a finger along the inside wall of the vent hood, and pulling it away to display a black mark now on her finger.

"Don't worry, Clyde. Nothing a good cleaning and some elbow grease can't fix!" She winked and smiled at him, wiping her finger on the apron she had tied around her waist. "Now, I'm going to go sit at one of those tables, have Kailey Rae come over after a few minutes so I can look through the menu. In order for me to know how to help, I need to taste what you're currently offering." She took the apron off and tossed it into the used linens bin, made an about face, and walked right out of the kitchen, leaving Clyde reeling in her wake.

He knew this was her job. He knew this is the whole premise of the show. But when some city folk came in and judged his livelihood, in front of his staff, it rankled him. He was livid, and there was nothing he could do about it. He ambled out of the kitchen, stopping by the host stand to let Kailey Rae the single woman in the fancy clothes was their guest and to please take her order.

Twenty-five minutes later, Rey had an assortment of plates surrounding her on the table she was seated at. An array of chicken wings, pizza, and burgers were all sprawled in front of her, and Rey had to admit to herself it wasn't the worst spread of food she'd seen compared to some of the restaurants she'd been to. She employed her tried and true method, starting with the plate next to her left hand and working clockwise around the table. Two bites of each meal; first, to adjust her palette and consider the temperature; the second, to savor the flavor, texture, and lingering aftertaste. After each plate, a sip of water and a reflection period to assess the entree.

Rey made it through the plates without spitting anything out, which was a good sign. She could feel Clyde's eyes boring into the back of her head while she ate. Most proprietors took pride in their restaurants, but Clyde was turning out to be another level. She was hoping the camera crew was getting the intense looks he was no doubt giving her, expecting the extra tension would drum up some good ratings for the episode. Not to mention the man was incredibly attractive, despite his stoic, antagonistic demeanor demonstrated so far.

She wiped her mouth with the provided napkin, and slowly turned around in her chair to face Clyde. "Would you care to join me, Clyde Logan?" She asked, gesturing to the chair across from her. He ambled over, not saying a word, and sat down. She noticed that he was careful to hide his mechanical arm as best he could underneath the table. Hopefully they would get to a place where they could talk about it; her favorite locations were where she could have a heart-to-heart with the owner to talk through the things they'd experienced in their lives, how they came to be where they are.

They sat there, staring at each other, neither initiating the conversation. Finally, Rey sighed out a heavy breath and pushed the closest plate away from her, so she could clasp her hands on the table.

"Well, Clyde, I'll just cut right to the chase. None of this food is horrible. It's all pretty edible, which is some of the highest praise I think I've ever given. But, all this chicken? I can tell it was frozen. Same with the pizza. People don't want to come out to eat and pay extra money for what they could whip up at home. The burger is probably your strongest meal, but it's not living up to its potential. I propose--"

"Livin' up to its potential?" Clyde cut her off. "It's a burger, not a damn teenager." He raised both arms to mirror Rey's posture, his mechanical arm slamming on the table with a loud thunk and startling Rey. "I ain't never got one complaint about nothin' the whole time I've run the place. We make do, there's a new manager over at the Grocery Castle that gets me what I need every week. We do well enough with what we got."

"Grocery Castle? What you should be doing is working directly with a food vendor, they would deliver everything you need. Then you could have fresh produce, salads, a daily vegetable. Your menu could really do with a livening up, some freshness. I know it's a bar, your patrons would really benefit from some added variety."

"Ain't no one ever asked about a salad here, 'cept city folk like you." Clyde bit back. "No disrespect, ma'am , but 'round these parts, we don't need no truffle oil or a bowl full of leaves." He could barely contain the anger in his voice; Clyde was a fiercely protective person of his livelihood and his hometown, and he did not appreciate this outsider coming in and criticizing his every decision.

"No offense, sir , but even rural places like Boone County are allowed to have good tasting food!" She pushed out of her chair, presumably to rise in an attempt to tower over Clyde. "We are here for seven days to take what you have and make it better . Make this place thrive, make it the talk of the town. Just because no one's complained directly to you doesn't mean there isn't room for improvement." Rey heaved a breath, willing herself to calm down.

There were many things she wished she could say to this Clyde guy, really give him a piece of her mind, but she was intimately aware of the presence of the cameras. How the show prided itself on its true candidness, how they tried to film these intimate moments in only one take to preserve the authenticity of the interaction. But, unsurprisingly, Clyde remembers none of that and stands just as angrily.

"I appreciate your concern, little miss, but we. Don't. Need. No. Help." He enunciated each word and leveled her with a stare that sent a shiver down her spine. Whether it was from fear or arousal, she couldn't tell, and at the moment she had no desire to figure it out. Before she could argue back, he turned around and stomped out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind him.

Rey sighed, and then waved over Kailey Rae to help her pick up the plates and take them back to the kitchen. As they were clearing the plates and putting them in the dishwasher area, Rey softly asked how Kailey Rae liked working at the Duck Tape.

"Oh it's nice work n' all. Everyone knows each other round here, so it's nice to feel like you're home even when you're here. Clyde's normally a big ole' softie, I'm sorry he's all riled up. None of us are big on change, to be frank. He probably just needs some time to adjust."

Rey digested this information. She understood this, logically. She had dealt with her fair share of stubborn, change-resistant restaurant owners. And they all came out the other end better for it. For some reason, Clyde Logan got under her skin more than the rest of them. And it seemed like she was getting under his as well.

The rest of the day was spent in similar fashion. Rey and Clyde argued about every decision. It didn't matter if it was about paint color, flooring, or adding a license plate wall as an accent, Clyde always took whatever stance was the direct opposite of Rey's. He found it increasingly harder to be in the same room as her, whatever this tension was skyrocketing with each negative encounter.

He was still fuming from their argument earlier over the menu, when she had essentially accused him of being lazy and providing bad food to his friends and neighbors. She knew nothing about their livelihoods, the tastes of the people in Boone County. How dare she burst into his bar, with her big personality, her beautiful eyes and her no-nonsense attitude, challenging him every step of the way? He was frankly confused on how he was feeling. On the one hand, this woman had been the object of his affection from afar for several months, being enchanted by her smile and her compassion. And yet, today he felt nothing but antagonism from her when he was trying to defend his business.

They had closed the restaurant and bar after the lunch service in order to start plans for the renovations, and for the crew to start conducting interviews with the rest of the staff. Clyde had done some interviews with Finn in between his arguments with Rey, and in them tried to put on a positive face for the sake of the camera.

Mellie had left many hours ago, and now the rest of the crew, kitchen staff and Clyde were meandering out into the parking lot, the camera crew packing up the car. Clyde waved off his employees, watching as Finn loaded the last bag into the back of the rental van, and did a count of people and spots. His grimace was noticeable, and he approached Rey timidly. Clyde was close enough that he overheard their entire conversation.

"You see, we couldn't get all the equipment in the exact same way it was this morning. The crew's exhausted, I don't think we have it in us to rearrange."

"What are you trying to tell me, Finn?" Rey asked, and Clyde's ears perked up as well.

"We don't have enough space for all of us to fit in the car. If you'd like, I can wait here while you guys drive to the hotel. You can drop them off and then come back for me."

"No, don't be silly, Finn. I can wait here while you guys--"

"I can drive Miss Johnson back to y'alls hotel." Clyde interrupted. Rey swiveled around on the spot to face him.

"I can't ask that of you, Mr. Logan. We're staying in Charleston since there are no hotels within a ten mile radius of here."

"All the more reason for me ta take ya, instead a makin' ya wait another hour n' a half for Finn ta come back. Ain't no Ubers around here neither," he added when he saw Rey open her mouth to interject. After a beat, she closed her mouth, nodding.

"Very well, Clyde." She turned, nodding to Finn, and then closed the space between herself and Clyde. "Lead the way."

They walked in a stilted silence, getting into Clyde's pickup.

Once they were both settled in the car, the tension began to crackle between the two of them. Clyde set off from the Duck Tape, following Finn, neither of them speaking a word.

This was going to be a long ride.


	3. Chapter3

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. You could cut the tension in the car with a knife, it was so thick. Clyde fiddled with the radio dial, giving up after several seconds of nothing but static. He mumbled something Rey thought sounded like "damn radio," but she was too worked up after the day to ask him to repeat himself.

She stared out the window, watching the scenery fly past them as the sun went down. She admitted to herself that it was beautiful out here. The state certainly earned its slogan of "Wild Wonderful West Virginia," she mused as trees and hills shimmered in the sunset. She decided, in the name of camaraderie, she would try to put the struggles of the day behind her.

"Have you always lived in Danville, Clyde?" She asked.

He ignored her.

"It really is beautiful," she tried again.

No answer.

"What the hell is your problem, Clyde?" She fumed, and his eyes finally flicked over to meet hers briefly before fixating back on the road, still not responding to her with words. "I'm just trying to help you! I'm here, regardless of your wishes, so you might as well get something out of it while I'm here."

She watched as his grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"Fine. You don't wanna talk? We don't have to talk." She shoved her hands over her chest, and huffed out an angry breath as she looked studiously out the window.

She missed him looking over at her again, raking his eyes up and down her body before turning back to keep his eyes on the road.

They didn't talk the remaining thirty-two minutes of the drive to Charleston, and by the time they arrived at the Hampton Inn, both Clyde and Rey were keyed up and spilled out of the car, sucking in deep breaths as if they had been suffocating and finally broke free.

They silently helped the crew unload the van, and Clyde, ever the gentleman despite his silent angry brooding, took more than his fair share of the cargo.

He lumbered ahead, and Rey turned to watch him traverse the parking lot with two bags slung across his back, a heavy case in his good arm and rolling a suitcase, her suitcase, with his mechanical arm. Her temper was simmering, just barely under the boiling point after everything that happened today, and she was annoyed at the fact that she one-hundred percent was checking out Clyde's ass as he walked on ahead of them. She grabbed a couple of smaller bags, grunting in annoyance, and left to trail behind him, leaving Finn to lock up the van.

Clyde was waiting in the lobby while the rest of the crew checked in at the front desk, milling about with the multitude of bags slung across his body. Rey pretended to ignore him as she blew past him and to the receptionist. By the time Rey was done, Clyde had been relieved of most of the cargo he was carrying, now only holding onto Rey's large suitcase.

Rey's large, hot pink suitcase.

It was quite a sight to behold, this massive, stoic man clad in dark green flannel, scruffy facial hair, and inky black waves, holding onto such a girly suitcase. Rey almost giggled.

Instead, she sauntered up to him, the crew already on their way to the elevators. She still had a bag in each hand, and tried to rearrange them so she could take her bag. "Thanks for bringing that in, Clyde. I can take it from here."

"Is that so, Miss Johnson?" He asked.

"He speaks!" She chided, trying again to put both bags on one arm and almost toppling over. She didn't know what she had grabbed, but it was certainly the heaviest thing in that damn van. "Yes, of course I've got it."

She looked up, her anger bubbling to the surface again at his infuriating face. He was just standing there, staring at her, working his jaw back and forth as if he were chewing on his words. Until, finally--

He turned and walked to the elevators.

She cried out in frustration, stomping behind him to the elevator bank, where he'd already pressed the "up" button.

"Well, as long as you're determined to help me, at least trade me one of these bags for my suitcase," she huffed, handing out a bag to him. He took it, slinging it on his shoulder, but didn't relinquish his grip on the suitcase.

Stubborn asshole , she thought to herself.

She followed him into the elevator, hitting the button that would take them to the fifth floor. He made his way to the back of the confined space, facing the front and fixating his eyes on the buttons. She filed in after him, standing in front of him so that her back was to him. She could feel his eyes on her, and she suppressed the shiver that wanted to run down her spine.

The tension in the elevator crackled as soon as the doors shut, and Rey was confusing all the frustrations of the day with the attraction she had felt for the man when she had seen his photo in the application, or when she'd first arrived.

And, she was loathe to admit, the passion he had for his bar and his community was insanely hot. Was he that passionate about… everything ?

Mercifully, the elevator ride was short, and she shot out into the hallway and to her room, Clyde following behind her at a slow, steady pace. It felt like he was stalking her, and it gave her a thrill of irritation and anticipation all at once. She reached the door, opened it and wordlessly held it open for him as he crossed the threshold into her room. He dropped the two bags on the massive king bed, and lined up her suitcase at the foot of the bed.

She closed the door, resting her back against the wood as she stared him down. He met her gaze, his eyes burning with...something. Hatred, probably, she assumed. She was effectively ruining his life, he'd well enough told her multiple times today.

"Are you going to fucking talk to me now?" Rey lashed out, all the confusing feelings of annoyance, frustration and attraction all blending into one in her brain and the words tumbling out.

"I don't reckon there's much ta talk about, Rey," Clyde spat back. "Ya here, pokin' yer nose around, fixin' shit that ain't broke, tellin' me how ta run my bar." He took two angry stomps closer to her.

"Listen, Clyde--" Rey broke off with an angry huff. "Your sister applied. You know this. I know this. Just let us help spruce the place up! Hell, once we're gone you can change everything on the menu back for all I care."

Clyde worked his jaw. "Ya don't mean that," he said, the fire seeming to cool the slightest bit. "I've watched every damn episode of yer show. Ya love what ya do."

"Of course I do! That's why I do it! I wish you'd just let me do it!" Rey cried.

He lifted his arms slightly, and dropped them again to slap against his thighs, letting out a frustrated groan.

"I'm not...I don't wanna talk about it no more," he huffed. He stomped the remaining paces to the door, of which Rey was still blocking. She lifted her chin to meet his eyes as he stared her down.

"Move, please."

"No," she said defiantly. A challenge in her voice. "I want to get to the bottom of why you hate why I'm here."

He squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his good hand to hold the bridge of his nose.

"Rey--"

She pushed the instinctual reaction she felt of hearing his deep, southern drawl speak her name, focusing on getting him to talk. She took a deep breath, and caught a whiff of his scent; all man and outdoors. It was heady.

She bit her lip, trying to put her head back on straight. She looked at him again, noticing his eyes had darkened significantly, fixed on her mouth. She gathered her wits, ready to fight. She opened her mouth to retort, and--

She never got any words out, because Clyde had swallowed them with his mouth.

His kiss was possessive, crowding, his mechanical arm pushing against the door by her head and the other circling her waist and yanking her to him. She balled her hands into fists, resting on his chest, and let the kiss overtake her.

They channeled all their anger, resentment, vexation into the kiss, the temperature kicking up several notches as she battled for control. She snaked her hands around his neck, jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. He pushed her further into the door, assuring she was going nowhere, and in retaliation she forced her tongue into his mouth. Or, it didn't actually take much force, as he reacted instinctively to her.

She could feel him getting hard through his jeans, and she ground her hips against him. He released his mouth from hers roughly with a groan.

"Down."

She obeyed, a knee-jerk reaction, and the second her feet were on the ground he undid the button to her jeans with one hand. He made a frustrated tug at her jeans, and then darkly muttered "Off."

Rey's jeans were off in a flash. Clyde undid his own jeans button, pushing his pants and boxers just far enough down to let his cock spring free. It was impressively hard, and Rey's eyes widened as she drank in the sight of him. He pumped himself a couple times with his good hand, smirking at the look on her face. He reached his mechanical hand behind him, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He slipped out a condom, swiftly tearing the packet and slipping it over his length.

He closed the space between them again, hoisting her up with one arm and using the door again as leverage to hold her up. They both looked down, Clyde lining himself up to her entrance, and he sank into her slowly. They collectively released a heavy breath as he filled her.

Her eyes pinched in slight discomfort, he was so big , and it took a few moments to adjust to his size. She rested her head on the door behind her, breathing deeply through her nose as she accommodated him, sinking further and further into her heat until he was fully sheathed inside her.

After a few precious seconds of overwhelming fullness, she looked down at him and nodded.

He quickly set a punishing pace, thrusting up into her with such enthusiasm and fervor that her back rubbed up and down the door. She was thankful she still had her shirt on, so her bare back wouldn't get wood burn.

They didn't speak, just heaving breaths and pants sounding through the quiet space of the hotel room, the sound of the air conditioner rattling in the background. His right hand was wrapped around her back, grasping the round globe of her ass cheek to help hold her upright while he pounded into her, keeping his mechanical arm down by his side. She clenched around him at the thought that he was able to support her suspended in the air above him with one hand, and he grunted at the feeling of her inner walls gripping his cock, pulling him in impossibly further.

Her hands landed on his shoulders at some point, clutching so tightly she thought she might break the skin through his plaid shirt. She looked down, watching him enter her over and over again, feeling a little dizzy at the strange feeling of completeness she felt in that moment. He felt so good, hitting that deep elusive spot within her over and over again. She relished in the roughness of it all, the lascivious sounds of him slamming into her, the coarse feel of his jeans against her thighs - because he still had never bothered to push them down.

His grunts became louder and more frequent, his thrusts becoming erratic, and she presumed that he was getting close. She lifted one of her hands off his shoulder, snaking between them so she could rub her clit to the rhythm of his thrusts. She felt her walls begin to flutter, getting closer to her peak. Clyde must have felt it too, because he gripped her ass harder and pushed her further into the door as he continued to thrust up, and she clutched her legs tighter around his waist to bring him as close as possible.

She rubbed her clit furiously, both sets of eyes focused on where they were joined, not looking at the other. She felt herself getting closer to the edge, and she saw a flash of metal in her peripheral vision. His arm had come up, to...touch her? She wasn't sure, not that it mattered.

But then, suddenly, Clyde released his grip on her and she dropped her legs to the ground so she wouldn't fall. He pulled out, and she felt strangely empty at his withdrawal. She groaned in frustration. She had been so close to coming, and this asshole--

"What the--" she ground out as he wordlessly flipped her around, spreading her legs out and pushing her slightly forward so her chest was pressed up against the door now, back arched. She placed her hands above her head, bracing herself as he pushed back into her, now from behind.

The angle was delectable.

His prosthetic arm came up to grip her hip, and the cool touch of the metal sent a shiver up her spine as she relished in the feeling of his urgent movements. His other hand came up to rest against the door, his fingers overlapping hers and she looked up at the surprising intimacy of the touch.

The new position afforded him the capability of reaching a new spot within her, his cock rutting against the spongy flesh, that elusive spot that made her keen and buck against him, her hips grinding against his as she met him thrust for thrust. Her hand that wasn't trapped by Clyde's resumed its spot at her clit, once again bringing herself to the precipice.

She groaned in pleasure, the sensation of his cock inside her mixed with her own deft fingers circling her bundle of nerves became almost too much to handle. Clyde was spurred on by her sounds, and moved his hand from the door to her other hip, pulling her to him each time he canted into her. His movements once again became unsteady and erratic, her cunt clenching around him as she hurtled over the edge to her orgasm. She leaned her head against the door, lost to her pleasure as he continued to fuck into her through her high. She removed her hand, placing it back on the door and felt boneless as his pace only increased.

She felt oversensitive, the aftershocks shooting through her each time he hit that deep spot within her. She thought he would keep going forever, when he suddenly stilled inside her with a deep moan, and she felt the warmth of the cum filling the condom within her.

He removed his hand from its spot over hers on the door, carefully pulling out so the condom wouldn't be displaced. He wordlessly stepped away, lumbering into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. She found her discarded panties, pulling them back on while he was in her bathroom.

He stepped out shortly after entering, his softening cock tucked back into his pants. He ran a hand through his hair, and looked everywhere around the room before settling his eyes on her.

He cleared his throat, then cleared it again.

"Well, I…" he trailed off, his eyes on her long, bare legs, her jeans in her hand.

"I'll see ya tomorrow," he finished, and brushed past her and out the door.


End file.
